Daytime Insomnia of the Undead
by Hidden-Monster
Summary: Inspired by my own insomnia & Denis O'Hare's quote regarding Russell & Talbot's relationship: "Like any marriage, the things you are trying to do might pull you away from each other, and the things start to collide or drift away from each other. He just wants Talbot to be happy, and it gives him sleepless days that Talbot is not happy."


The night was winding down. Some could claim it was already over at the current hour of 6am. But one of the many wonderful things about Mississippi was the fog that rolled in during the first chapter of the day, preparing the countryside for the humidity that was to follow. The mist would hold on for a few hours at least, denying the first peeks of sunlight from penetrating it's shield.

Of course, he wasn't outside at the moment, even if it he could be. Talbot would claim it was too risky and even Russell knew well enough to be indoors when the darkness of the sky began to fade. He hadn't attempted to be anywhere near the sun's rays in nearly two thousand years, but based on the legends passed down, it would take very little of it to burn him up into a bloody pulp.

Instead he sat safely in bed, reading while awaiting the upcoming day. Talbot by his side, watching dvred recordings of the evening news. While skimming through his book, Russell listened the current events, along with Talbot's commentary on the proceedings.

"Why are they talking about this trashy athinganoi tribe family? I watch the news to get away from that reality show garbage and now they're forcing it upon me again!"

"Nan looks so tense in that business dress. She should just come to her press conferences wearing the camo tank top and baggy pants that she would obviously feel more comfortable in."

"They're arguing about the same damn thing! She already went over these issues with the last asshole!"

"Still, I'm rather glad the older one is dead. His son's easier on the eyes."

Russell's choice of reading material for that night was fiction, but sadly the main character was quite a bore. A pile of books accompanied his side of the bed, mainly historical or well received, newly published novels. At times, he could still be delighted by modern stories, but it never quite matched his enthusiasm when he first learned to read many centuries ago.

As for history, he considered himself an expert, but also a disciplinarian stickler for absolute accuracy in his references. Reading about places and events, in which he had an eyewitness account to, often would lead him to finding errors that would drive him up the wall. From that, he gained a general mistrust in historical books. But that did not keep him from continually reading them, trying to piece together all the likely truths and conclude what had really taken place.

"Write your own books then," Talbot would offer, after Russell complained to him, one too many times, about how the authors presented so many incorrect statements as facts. "Write it anonymous if you must, state what you've observed and they won't be able to prove you wrong."

Naturally, Russell wouldn't waste effect on such a time consuming task that would only benefit others. He only voiced his opinion because he wanted Talbot to be versed on what he knew. For Talbot, he would write a book, or many volumes, to give him all the knowledge and experience had had gained over the past 2,800 years. Unfortunately for the moment, other matters consumed Talbot's attention. The present being his program, which had just reached the end of its aired broadcast.

Talbot leapt up, still full of energy, even at their retiring hour, and closed the antique cabinet which housed the television set inside. "Book down," he commanded, while tweaking off the brass floor lamps.

Russell laid back and waited until the room was dark and Talbot was under the covers until he attempted his usual 'late night' conversations. It never went on for very long before Talbot drifted off, but Russell found it was the best way to get the most unbiased answers from him, even on trivia matters.

"My book is terrible."

"That's a shame. Throw it in the fire."

"No. Would be such a waste. And I rather hated it when they were doing that in the 30s."

"It wouldn't be a waste. The paper could add an extra 30 seconds to the fire!"

Russell chuckled, hoping Talbot would stay alert long enough to entertain him until he himself felt the urge to sleep. Changing subjects, he bravely considering bringing up a previously touchy topic between them. With a newly added hook involved.

"We'll likely have a guest here next week."

"Oh?" Talbot's tone was attentive but not necessarily pleased. "Do we know which night or will they just show up anytime they please?"

"The wolves will let me know."

" _The wolves_, well, now I feel relieved! Please tell me we're not serving and housing one of _their_ kind."

"Of course not. It's a vampire. Local, but he still has to be brought across state lines."

"Anyone I know?"

"Not unless you frequent redneck bars or Sophie-Anne's abode when I'm not around."

"Not fucking Sophie-Anne! Please do not think about bringing anymore of her trash into our house."

"If he can be useful, it'll be worth it. Trust me."

Talbot reminded quiet afterwards. Russell believed he was feigning sleep, but after several minutes had passed, he resumed their argument.

"It's a stupid plan and it's not worth all the trouble and effort you've put into it. We never should have gone to that wedding in the first place. It put too many bad ideas into your head."

Russell was able to overlook Talbot insulting him, but the fact that he never tried to see how important his goal was, always pained him.

"It'll work. This one has a human lover."

"Don't they all..?"

"One who he appears quite close to. And one that shall become quite vulnerable and susceptible to danger, if he is not agreeable towards the proposal I have in mind."

"That's quite an evil to do, Darlin'." Talbot still sounded amused, even if he intended to be scolding with his remark.

"Only when my arm is forced, my Dear. Besides, one should never fall in love with those who can not defend themselves." Russell meant this as a compliment in Talbot's favor, and had patted his hand to let him know as such. However, Talbot seem to choose his next words to convey the opposite sentiment.

"Or he could just lock his love away in an ivory tower, where no will ever endanger them again."

Russell knew well enough not to argue back. He let Talbot have the last word. A good day's rest was all he needed and the bitterness would be gone by the next night.

And when Russell was sure Talbot was asleep, he turned his bedside table's light back on and retrieved his tiresome book once again.


End file.
